


After

by BuffyRowan



Category: R.I.P.D., The Hitman's Bodyguard (2017)
Genre: Michael doesn't recognize them, Michael grieving, but we know who they are at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-05 16:30:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16371128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuffyRowan/pseuds/BuffyRowan
Summary: Michael didn’t make any special effort to get there, he was too busy rebuilding his business after the shitshow in Den Haag had restored his AAA reputation as a bodyguard. Well, rebuilding his business and rebuilding his relationship with Amelia.  But when he had to escort a client to New York, he arranged an extra couple of days after the job ended and booked a ticket to Boston, a hotel room, and a rental car.





	After

Michael didn’t make any special effort to get there, he was too busy rebuilding his business after the shitshow in Den Haag had restored his AAA reputation as a bodyguard. Well, rebuilding his business and rebuilding his relationship with Amelia. But when he had to escort a client to New York, he arranged an extra couple of days after the job ended and booked a ticket to Boston, a hotel room, and a rental car. 

He didn’t tell Amelia about it. He didn’t even indicate that he was taking the extra days. As far as she knew, he was working the entire time he was in America. He trusted her, and he’d come to terms with the fact that his mentioning his client’s name hadn’t led to the man’s death, but still. The one time he mentioned a client’s name, the client died. It didn’t even matter that there was no risk in this case, he just couldn’t tell her, not about this.

The cemetery was neat, but Michael could tell that no one had visited recently. It didn’t surprise him, it’d been four years after all. It was healthier that Julia wasn’t still stuck in love with a memory. Michael took a few minutes brush dead leaves from the headstone, then carefully arranged the small bunch of flowers he’d brought. Once he’d done that, there was nothing to do but sit back and stare at it.

Twins or not, they hadn’t been particularly close in years. When Michael had gone into the CIA, and Nick had joined the Boston PD, Michael had changed his last name. No reason to make it too easy for someone with a grudge to find the whole family. He’d caved to sentimentality enough to use Nick’s middle name as his new surname, but that was it. As the years had passed, the distance grew wider. They’d still talked on the phone from time to time, but they’d lost the closeness they’d had growing up.

Kinkade had been wrong, when he said Michael had dreamed of being a cop until he figured out the shit pay it would involve. Nick had always been the one to dream of being a cop. Nick had gone along with it because he thought he’d be good at it, and he’d be with his brother. Their parents weren’t horrible, but they’d been bad with money and somewhat irresponsible. They’d moved so often that the twins were hard-pressed to remember their current address. Sometimes the move happened in the middle of the night, to duck a landlord looking for his money. Other times, they’d be dumped on one relative or another or friend of the family to stay for a few days, weeks, or months. No hope of planning ahead, signing up for summer camp or things like that never worked out. It left both of them craving stability. Nick had signed up for the police academy, found a nice girl and married her, bought a house, he was all set up with the perfect life. Michael had chosen to pursue financial stability and his own company. He was never going to worry about being able to pay the rent, or have enough food. And he was going to be in control of his life, he would always know where he was going and how he was getting there.

“You’d be laughing your ass off at me, you know. As many times as you told me to loosen up, to improvise when I needed to. The shit that I went through with fucking Kinkade . . . Seriously, the man does not know how to make a fucking plan.” Michael stopped talking and shook his head, it was stupid to sit here and talk to basically himself.   
He’d stood up and was straightening his suit when the blonde approached him. She had a knee-length black trench coat on open over a much shorter dress with a neckline that was low enough to nearly be illegal. She was wearing shoes that were stupidly impractical for walking over grass, and overall looked like a supermodel who’d gotten lost on the way to a shoot. “I’ve never seen you here before.”

“First chance I’ve had to visit. Been living overseas.” Michael wasn’t going to be rude, but he also didn’t know what to make of a stranger making conversation in a cemetery. “I was just leaving, so I’ll get out of your hair.”

She smiled, and put a hand on his arm, “I wouldn’t mind you know, having some company. Someone to talk to Nick about, swap some stories.” 

Michael was saved having to answer by a little old Chinese man approaching them. He wrapped an arm around the blonde’s waist, “Honey, are you bothering this nice man?” The old guy peered up and Michael, “Sorry if she bothered you, she just can’t help herself from being nosey.”

Wow. This pair actually beat out Kinkade and his lady for weird dynamics, and that was saying something. “Really, she wasn’t bothering me. I was just about to go. I have a plane to catch.” He gave his professional smile as he walked back towards his rental.

He was most of the way to the end of the row when he heard the old man say, “You should try winging it sometimes, Michael. It might work out better than you think.”  
When he looked back, though, neither the blonde nor the old man were there.


End file.
